As the days shorten and the air turns crisp, a quiet transformation begins. At the moment, colours are slowly shifting here in the Kisetsu-en bonsai garden.
In Japan, autumn is not merely a season—it is a deeply poetic moment in time. It is a season of reflection, of beauty tinged with sadness, and of nature’s gentle reminder that all things are impermanent. For those of us who work with bonsai, this season holds a special kind of magic.
Zelkova serrata changing colours.
The Aesthetics of Letting Go
In Japanese culture, autumn is often associated with wabi-sabi—the appreciation of beauty that is imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete. The falling of leaves is not seen as a loss, but as a graceful surrender. Trees shed their foliage not in despair, but in quiet dignity. This is mirrored in bonsai, where the seasonal changes are not hidden or corrected, but celebrated.
A bonsai in autumn is a study in subtlety. The vibrant greens of summer give way to fiery reds, soft ambers, and golden yellows. Then, one by one, the leaves fall. What remains is the bare structure—the essence of the tree. Its bones. Its truth.
Melancholy as a Form of Beauty
There is a word in Japanese: mono no aware.
Chinese elm getting ready for dormancy.
It describes the bittersweet awareness of the transience of things. It is the gentle sadness that comes from recognizing that nothing lasts forever—and that this impermanence is what makes life beautiful.
When we observe a bonsai in autumn, we are invited into this space of awareness. The tree, though small, holds the vastness of time. It has weathered seasons, storms, and pruning. And now, in autumn, it stands quietly, offering us a moment of stillness. A moment to feel.
A Time for Reflection
For the bonsai artist, autumn is not just a visual experience—it is emotional. It is a time to pause and reflect on the year that has passed. What has grown? What has been lost? What must be let go?
In the garden, we clean fallen leaves from the pots, adjust wire, and prepare for winter. But we also take time to simply sit and observe. To watch a single leaf drift to the ground. To feel the silence that follows.
The Gift of the Season
Autumn teaches us that beauty is not always loud. Sometimes, it is quiet. Sometimes, it is found in the spaces between things—in the bare branches, the soft light, the hush of the wind.
In bonsai, as in life, autumn is a teacher. It reminds us to embrace change, to find grace in aging, and to see the poetry in every falling leaf.
